


Combining Greek And Latin

by rebooting



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-29
Updated: 2011-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-19 21:25:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebooting/pseuds/rebooting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When two conversations go differently, the Apocalypse misses its deadline. In the aftermath, Castiel, Anna, and Dean try to sort out where each of them stands. And Dean and Anna try to teach Castiel how to be a person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Combining Greek And Latin

_What did you do?_

 _You shouldn't have come, Anna._

 _Why did you release Sam Winchester?_

 _Those were my orders._

 _ **Orders**? Cas, you saw him. He's drinking demon blood! It's so much worse than we thought. Dean was **trying** to stop him._

 _You really shouldn't have come._

The first blood on his hands was his brothers'. But she'd had a point, one that he couldn't argue any longer, not after Uriel's betrayal, not after the Winchesters. Heaven's orders were _wrong_.

She'd been surprised, at first. The other angels had tried to escape with their captive in tow, but Castiel had the element of surprise, and they hadn't quite got their hands on Anna; she dived to one side as Castiel lunged, sword in hand, no doubt thinking that he was trying to gut _her_. He took Sandalphon first, the sword sliding into him with distressing ease. A dull crunch alerted him to the fact that Anna had crashed through the dock railing, but by then he had Amatiel to worry about. Amatiel was a better fighter than Sandalphon, and Castiel, while formidable, was out of practice, had never _practiced_ fighting _other angels_.

He and Amatiel had traded more than a few blows by the time Castiel became aware that Anna had rejoined them. She was blocking some of Amatiel's blows for him, ducking in to get Amatiel's attention and give Castiel a better chance with the sword, whilst trying to keep out of its way herself. Finally, she tackled Amatiel, bearing the other angel to the ground so Castiel could drive the sword through her chest.

Once they were both on their feet again, leaning against the more solid parts of the dock railing and trying to catch their breath, Anna gave him a _look_ , and he shrugged, uncomfortable.

"Get somewhere safe." She kept _looking_ at him, and he tried to keep his gaze steady, but something about her expression made him turn his eyes away from hers. He added, quietly, "But we'll need to make your escape look convincing."

 

 

 _What is so worth saving? I see **nothing** but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam._

 _You can take your peace and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt, I'll even take Sam as-is. Because it's a hell of a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise! This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier. There is a right and a wrong here and you know it. Look at me. **You know it**! Now you were gonna help me once, weren't you? You were going to warn me about all this before they dragged you back to Bible camp. Help me now. Please._

 _What would you have me do?_

 _Get me to Sam, we can stop this before it's too late._

 _I do that, we will all be hunted. We'll all be killed._

 _If there is anything worth dying for, **this is it**._

If there was anything worth fighting for, this was it.

It wasn't much of a win, if you looked at the fact that Lilith and Ruby still walked free. And Castiel would never stop being uncomfortable at the way Sam had looked with his eyes demon-black. But the final seal was kept intact, and with the deadline missed – well, there were scores of angels, and as many demons, baying for their blood, but the door was closed. It took all of Dean and Castiel's strength to drag Sam away from the church where disaster had nearly struck and into Bobby's panic room, but once they were out of _immediate_ danger, they had time to take stock of their options.

Their options were distressingly few.

In the end, Castiel branded the Winchesters – and his own vessel – with Enochian sigils, to throw off their pursuers, and they settled down to wait out Sam's detoxing.

 

 

Anna gatecrashed a particularly nice dream Dean was having. The one time he could get with angels and demons – when, of course, the angel was a gorgeous curly-haired blonde, the demon a pixie-cut brunette, and both wearing little more than panties and lacy bras, in thematically-appropriate colours. Dancing to "Sweet Cherry Pie", at that.

Anna's presence didn't really _detract_ from the dream, but it wasn't exactly _expected_.

"Anna." Considering he'd slept with her, Dean wasn't impressed with how awkward he felt. "I was just, uh. Working on a case."

She grinned, looking equal parts amused and fondly exasperated. "This is what you dream about."

"This is awkward. Why're you gatecrashing my head?" Dean asked. "Why don't you just swing by the junkyard?"

Her amused expression turned frustrated, and she shoved her hands into her pockets. "I can't find you."

"Oh. Cas did this thing."

"Cas?" Now she looked relieved. "Good. All of Heaven's gunning for you three, you'll have a better chance together."

"Anna, _why're you here_?"

She smiled, giving a little shrug. "I figured you could use another hand. I don't get along with Heaven any more than you guys do. What do you say?"

It didn't take Dean long to consider it. Anna had always been an ally, and it couldn't hurt to have another angel on-side.

"You're in." He grinned, leaning back in his chair. "We're at Bobby's junkyard. See you—"

He woke up as suddenly as if Anna had physically pushed him out of the dream.

"Son of a – you couldn't let me have seven more minutes in heaven?" he complained, before getting to his feet and looking for Castiel, Sam and Bobby to tell them about their new ally.

 

 

"Anna."

She'd stopped being nervous about Castiel when he took down two angels for her, but that didn't mean he didn't still _startle_ her sometimes. She jumped, turning to face him and saying, with _just_ a bit of edge to her tone, "I'm going to get you a collar with a bell if you don't stop sneaking up on me like that."

". . . I'm sorry," he offered, sounding slightly unsure. "I wanted to talk to you."

"I think Sam and Dean are asleep," Anna said apologetically. "Is it important? I can go wake them."

"Not them," Castiel said hastily. "Just you."

". . . okay." She leaned against the table behind her, eyeing him. "Vaguely ominous. What's on your mind?"

"You slept with Dean."

Anna waited for a moment, to see if that non-sequitur had a follow-up, but when Castiel remained silent she realised he was waiting for _her_ to say something.

"Yes." A pause; what else was there to say? ". . . is that relevant to anything?"

"Yes." Contrary to her puzzled tone, Castiel's was frustrated. "It's – I don't _mind_ –"

"Well, I _hope_ not!" she huffed, glaring at him. "It's not for _you_ to approve or disapprove–"

"It's not about _approval_!" Castiel's tone had as much passion in it as Anna had ever heard, while he was in a vessel at least. Their communications in Heaven tended to be more than just sound. "It's–"

"What?" She frowned at him, tilting her head as she examined him. This was as agitated as she'd ever seen him. It was at once concerning and intriguing. "What's this about, Castiel?"

"It's not about _you and Dean_ ," Castiel said, starting to pace. Anna knew from long experience dealing with him under her command that when Castiel was pacing, he was trying to sort out _something_ in his own head. "It's about–"

"It's about Dean." Of course. The other angels had been concerned about how fond Castiel was getting of Dean Winchester; it seemed they'd been right to be. Anna smiled to herself, secretly glad. It was a sign that Castiel was becoming more human, this melting of the glacier that most angels had for hearts.

"I wish you'd stop interrupting," Castiel said, snapping her out of her pleased reverie. "But yes, it's about Dean."

"You care for him."

"Yes." Something in his tone said that she was stating the obvious, and that he wished she'd stop it. "I'm . . . not used to this sort of emotion. But I am very . . . fond of him."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Poetry. Really. Castiel, why are you telling me this?"

"Because you have a prior claim–"

"A prior – he's not a one-use-only item, Castiel," Anna exclaimed, half-amused, half-exasperated. Why did _she_ have to give Castiel this talk? She'd had to give it to Uriel, too, back when she was his superior and he'd been less of an asshole. Of course, Uriel's opinion of humans being what it was, _that_ conversation had involved Barachiel and whether he and Anna were _exclusive_ – which nobody could be with Barachiel, who was a firm proponent of free love. Putting Uriel and Barachiel out of her mind, she continued, "Yes, Dean and I had sex. Yes, we're still having sex when we're not exhausted or injured or hunting some disgusting slime-creature who makes us all smell like seaweed for a week. But I don't have some _claim_ on him." She shrugged. "We haven't talked about one, anyway, and if you want to go for him, I'm not going to start being bitchy about 'my man'."

Castiel paused, looking uncomfortable. "This isn't going how I assumed it would."

Anna laughed. "That's because _your_ vessel was a good Christian family man and _I_ actually grew up in this world. Let's have a little sociology lesson. You know what polygamy is, I'm assuming?"

"I'm not talking about marriage," Castiel pointed out. "We're not in Massachusetts."

"Not the point. Now, you're smart; what does _amor_ mean?"

"Love, passion, fondness. Desire." Castiel frowned at her. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"I'm getting to that." She smiled brilliantly. "Now, put together the first half of polygamy and _amor_."

"That would combine Greek and Latin," Castiel said, still frowning, and Anna rolled her eyes again.

"Polyamory, Castiel. Multiple loves," she explained. "It's a nice concept humans have come up with to help explain the people who don't fit into neat little monogamous boxes. Call it multiamory if that makes you feel better."

"And according to this . . . polyamory . . . you don't mind if I . . . attempt things with Dean?" Castiel attempted to clarify, still looking a little confused. Anna had to feel sorry for him; understanding the myriad details of human interaction was difficult enough for _her_ , and she'd spent the last twenty-four years _being_ a human. Castiel only had his host's memory to draw on.

"Because I don’t personally ascribe to monogamy, I don't mind if you and Dean have sex," she agreed. She grinned, patting him on the shoulder. "In fact, you have my blessing."

 

 

Sometime in mid-2010, after over a year of avoiding Heaven and Hell both and going on jobs when they thought they could get away with it, Sam got laid up with some sort of nasty respiratory infection. He could barely walk down a set of stairs without wheezing like an asthmatic, so Dean practically dragged him to Bobby's and left him there with orders not to get out of bed until he could breathe properly.

"Be _have_ ," he said firmly, standing in the doorway to Bobby's spare room, giving his bed-bound brother a glare that was only half-serious. Sam was kind of pathetic when he was sick, giving him kicked-puppy eyes from the bed, tucked under three blankets. "No exerting yourself. No homework. No porn. If you die masturbating I'll never let you hear the end of it."

That, at least, got a laugh, and Dean headed back downstairs with a lighter heart. If Sam was feeling well enough to laugh, it was just a run-of-the-mill mundane illness. He'd been jumping at shadows lately, expecting everything to be an attack; something so _ordinary_ as a flu was almost a relief.

The angels didn't tend to sleep, and Dean was too wired to try yet, so it was, perhaps, inevitable that the three of them ended up in an all-night bar in town, ensconced in a booth in a corner of the room, Anna and Dean both drinking and Castiel eyeing them as though he was wondering where their sense had gone.

"Your trouble," Anna was saying, looking at Castiel, "Is that you never got the chance to _properly_ rebel. You're still so straight-laced. It makes you a good soldier but it _doesn't_ make you _creative_."

"I never had a use for creativity," Castiel pointed out.

Anna laughed, glancing at Dean as she shook her head. "Maybe not when you were taking orders, but there _are_ no orders anymore, and you need to _loosen up_. Don't you agree, Dean?"

"You do have kind of a stick up your ass," Dean admitted. "Seriously, Cas, what'd the harm be in relaxing a bit?"

"We happen to be in the middle of a tug-of-war between Heaven and Hell," Castiel said. "We have bigger things to worry about than the state of my ass."

The not-entirely-decent words sounded _odd_ coming out of Cas's mouth, and Dean took another swallow of his drink to avoid smirking. Anna didn't hide her mirth quite as well; she covered her mouth with her hand, coughing a little.

"At least think of your host," she said persuasively. "You've been riding him for over two years, Castiel. I know he was going to die, and he volunteered for angel duty again, but you owe the guy. Let loose on some of those cravings he's got going on."

Castiel didn't look entirely comfortable with this line of conversation, but he said, evidently trying to seem cooperative, "I'm open to suggestion."

"When was the last time you ate something?" Dean asked. It was the first thing that came to mind, and God knew _he_ 'd be craving food like nobody's business if he'd been deprived of it, even without the _need_ for it, for as long as Jimmy Novak had been. "You've been in the guy's head, you know what he eats. Get him a burger or something."

"A burger?" Anna made a face. "At least make it something _decent_."

"Burgers are decent!" Dean protested. "That's not the point. We did the impossible – beat Heaven _and_ Hell at their own game, short-circuited the Apocalypse – and you still have no idea how to be a _person_ , Cas. And if you're going to be down here until Heaven's not so pissed at you anymore, you've _got_ to start blending in better."

"Besides, eating can be nice," Anna pointed out, grinning. "You've never taken advantage of taste, have you? It's _nice_. You _do_ have a sense of taste in there, right?"

"Jimmy's olfactory and gustatory senses are fully functional," Castiel said stiffly. Anna laughed, rolling her eyes, and Dean flagged down a waitress.

"Hi." He gave her a warm smile as reflex; she was a pretty waitress, and he'd spent too long flirting with pretty waitresses to _not_ do it automatically. "Could we get your biggest, greasiest bacon cheeseburger, a platter of fries, heavy on the ketchup–"

"And a side of hot sauce," Anna piped up.

"–and a–" a quick glance at Anna, who mouthed _chocolate_ "–chocolate shake for my friend here," he added, gesturing to Castiel.

"Sure thing," the waitress said cheerfully. "Top your beers up too?"

"Why not." Dean smiled beatifically. "Tell you what, I'll keep you company to the bar."

Taking advantage of Dean's momentary absence, Anna looked at Castiel. "You haven't even tried to talk to him about sex, have you?"

Castiel looked uncomfortable, and Anna sighed.

"We have _got_ to get you relaxing more."

Dean returned with their refilled beers and Castiel's milkshake, setting the latter down in front of Castiel with an expectant look. Sighing and looking as though he was being fed poison, Castiel picked up the glass and took an experimental sip.

And paused, considering.

And took another, slightly longer, sip.

"There we go," Dean said, grinning. "Say what you want about how crappy human design is, taste is _totally_ worth it."

With Anna and Dean both chivvying him into drinking, the milkshake was half-gone by the time the fries and burger arrived. Dean nudged the burger closer to Castiel, sneaking a couple of the fries and catching Anna doing exactly the same, coating hers in the hot sauce. Castiel took longer to take to the burger, but once he'd had one or two bites, the sheer flavours occupied his attention enough that Dean and Anna could steal most of the fries without intervention.

"Phase One of get-Castiel-loose complete," Dean said in a stage whisper to Anna. "What was our plan for Phase Two?"

 

 

Phase Two, Anna decided, involved alcohol. She wasn't even sure if angels could _get_ drunk – she'd never felt the need to try, since regaining her Grace – but it was worth a try. She and Dean ordered them all a round of cocktails, Anna smirking at the outrageously-named ones that Dean ordered while Castiel remained oblivious to the double entendres. After the third or fourth round, when Castiel's lips were stained blue from the curaçao and Anna's were a fetching shade of purple from the créme de cassis in her Black Passion, they decided to leave the bar and find a nice, homey hotel room, as much to avoid showing up slightly tipsy at Bobby's place and rub Sam's nose in the fact that he was too sick to go out as because Dean had declared that he wanted to try a massage bed again.

They stopped in at a 7-11 on the way, stocking up on whatever candy took Dean's fancy, and after several moments of fumbling in front of the night clerk of the streetside motel they stumbled upon, Dean located his wallet and handed over a credit card to book a room for the night. Anna was fairly sure that the man thought she was a hooker than Dean and Castiel had hired, but that wasn't as important as getting them – and the alcohol they'd brought with them from the liquor store between the 7-11 and the hotel – upstairs.

Introducing Castiel to junk food was an adventure. Cheetos were discarded as "too messy", ramen as "disturbingly devoid of anything approaching nutrients". Dean took exception to that last part, insisting that the point of junk food wasn't the _nutrients_ , but Castiel was adamant that he wasn't going to eat something so high in sodium and low in everything else.

Butterfingers were immediately followed by actual butter. That comparison done, Castiel complained, "The chocolate tastes nothing like butter," and vetoed it on that score alone.

"You _want_ a candy bar that tastes like butter?" Anna asked, wrinkling her nose.

Castiel shook his head. "No. I don't like butter either. But the name implies that the comparison should be there."

"Wow." Dean shook his head, chuckling. "False advertising really bugs you, huh?"

Three Musketeers bars and Almond Joys got passes, but the crowning achievement of the experiment was spray cheese on crackers. Castiel chewed slowly, considering, and then proceeded to make another, and another, until half the package of crackers was gone.

". . . so that's a yes to the Cheez-wiz?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows as Castiel ate yet another luridly-coloured puff of aerosol cheese.

"These make me very happy," Castiel said placidly.

"Man. I take it all back, Cas," Dean chuckled. "You totally know how to be a person."

"A person who loves spray cheese." Anna made a face. "I don't know if I'm proud or disappointed."

 

Somewhere around 3am, Anna decided that the next phase of their experiment – which had quickly turned into just an excuse to get comfortably boozed-up and eat junk food – should involve physical sensation. Most angels indulged in one way or another, but Castiel had always been straight-laced and standoffish, even for an angel. He was loosening up decently with the application of bad food and enough alcohol to get him buzzed but not drunk, but Anna was confident she could do better than that.

He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the foot of the bed that Anna was sitting on. Dean was leaning against the other bed, flicking through the staticky channels on the motel TV. Anna whistled at him to get his attention, and then said, "Over here. We're all overworked and over-stressed. I think a nice circle of massage is in order."

Dean raised his eyebrows, considering. "Who does who, though? Three's not really enough for . . . you know. Reach."

Anna kept back a laugh at his awkward phrasing, and replied, "Well, I'll do you, if you do Castiel."

"Hardly fair to you, though," Dean pointed out, in a tone that would be charitable if not for the slightly lascivious smirk on his face. Castiel, who had perked up a little – Anna _knew_ he still wanted Dean, even if he hadn't been able to bring himself to say anything – deflated a little. Dean continued, "You do Cas, I'll do you. We can swap out later."

That was better than nothing. Anna stretched out on the bed, feet on the pillows, already stripped down to her t-shirt and jeans, and prodded Castiel's shoulders until he leaned forward enough for her to get her hands on his shoulders. She peeled his trenchcoat back, pushing it down his arms until he shrugged out of it altogether, and waited for Dean to settle into position, straddling her hips, before beginning her work on Castiel's back.

She tried to focus on what she was doing, but Dean's hands were firmly gentle on her back and shoulders, and several times she had to bite back a moan as he hit a particularly sore spot and smoothed it out expertly. Hunters _would_ have to know how to fix damaged muscles, she thought vaguely, forcing her attention back to Castiel's shoulders and digging her knuckles into a nasty knotted spot just below his shoulderblade. He let out a yelp that was half pain, half pleasure, and she smiled, pleased with herself.

"Ahn-na," Castiel gasped, her name turned into an exhalation of pained pleasure as she worked at another knot of tension. "My wings—"

"Let them out." That, surprisingly, was Dean, not Anna. Anna was still gasping from the way Dean's hands had just erased a tense spot at the base of her neck. He continued, his voice gruff, "Both of you. I want to see them."

Anna lifted her hips to move him back a little before letting her wings out, unfurling with a rush of displaced air. Feathers blossomed under her hands as Castiel unfurled his wings, sighing with relief at the sudden release of tension that keeping them hidden always caused. It was minor, but it was always there. Anna returned her hands to his back, this time massaging the tension out of the place where wings and back joined, smoothing her fingers up over the flight feathers, getting at the knotted muscles at the joints. She let out a shivery moan as Dean copied her movements on her wings, releasing bundles of tension she hadn’t even realised were there.

Tending another angel's wings was a form of trust. It meant they trusted you not to damage them. And these days, after the betrayal of so many, it was a big thing. Anna forced down a lump in her throat when she noticed that, aside from the unconscious tension in his shoulders and wings that she was doing her best to repair, Castiel was completely relaxed, not even _thinking_ about what to do if she started ripping out handfuls of feathers.

A part of her wasn't even startled when Dean laid a soft, hot kiss to the back of her neck. She was a _little_ surprised that he reached down over her, laying himself along her back to reach down and trail his fingers over Castiel's wings. Castiel turned his head to look up at them on the bed, and there was such a sense of longing in his eyes that Anna couldn't catch her breath for a moment.

She'd thought he'd only been interested in Dean. What if she'd lead that conversation so strongly, believing she knew exactly what he wanted to say, that he hadn't got the chance to add anything to it?

"Get off the floor, Cas," Dean said huskily. "Come on up here."

There was a pause for a moment when Anna, remembering that Castiel's body came courtesy of a human, asked, "Is Jimmy okay with this?"

Castiel gave them both a wry smile. "Jimmy thinks it might get the . . . stick out of my ass. He doesn't mind."

Castiel wasn't the type to lie about that sort of thing. Dean reached out to pull him onto the bed, kissing him hard, and Anna slid in behind him, fitting her body to his and drawing a gasped moan from him with a ripple of her fingers over his wing.

Anna lost track of whose hands were touching her, sliding her jeans down over her hips and thighs, slipping up under her bra to play over her breasts, just as she lost track of whose body she was touching, whose firm stomach and chest were behind her, whose cock she was stroking lightly while she kissed someone who was being kissed and touched in turn.

Sensations coalesced by the time they were all naked and ready, practically trembling from desire. Castiel dropped a kiss on Dean's shoulder, silently asking, and Dean responded by drawing Anna in front of him, arching back into Castiel's touch as he threaded his fingers in Anna's hair and ran his hand over her ass.

She rode Dean while he was in Castiel's lap, and the angels cocooned all three of them with their wings, feathers brushing over hot, sensitised skin. Castiel's hands were firm on Dean's thighs, and Dean had one arm looped around Anna's back and the other reaching back to Castiel's hip to steady himself. Anna couldn't quite reach Castiel comfortably, but their wings intertwined, and that was plenty. She fisted her hand in Dean's hair, kissing him hard as they moved in smooth, somehow natural motions, like the three of them were made to fit together and only just now realised it.

Dean was quieter during sex, she knew from experience; Castiel vocalised more, in rough, husky syllables that veered into Enochian as they learned each other's bodies and moved more fluidly. Anna wasn't shy about her own gasps and moans, her free hand finding purchase over Castiel's hand on Dean's thigh, holding all three of them together.

Afterwards, warm with closeness and something that wasn't physical, they lay tumbled together on the bed. Castiel and Anna had furled their wings to make more room, lying on either side of Dean but touching each other nonetheless. He had a smile on his face that was equal parts contentment and pure, typical Dean Winchester smugness.

"What?" Anna asked, raising an eyebrow. She could just _feel_ a snappy remark coming.

"Nothing." Dean's smile widened. "Just . . . I could really get to like this sort of 'screw you Heaven'."


End file.
